This is: transandromisia, sexism, and bioessentialism, because this focuses on how 'men = bad and scary' and the very real consequences it has.
To summarize this entire submission, even the queer community at large engages in bioessentialism, even though it is detrimental to trans people and the community as a whole. It is FINE for one to have a preference for a gender and specific genitals, but it is NOT FINE to use this preference as a way to dictate how others live their lives.
Not only that, but there's literally no reason for a total stranger to know about a trans person's genitals. And trans people are already heavily sexualized (I mean, the terms boy pussy/cuntboy and girl dick are already very heavy examples of this, not to mention how the terms futa/futanari and hermaphrodite are popular nsfw tags despite being slurs and offensive words to describe intersex people in fetishizing contexts, but also get used for trans women).
And yes, treating people who have penises as lesser because they're not women is absolutely vile behavior. Trans men literally deal with misogyny all the time, they're seen as broken women, for crying out loud.
I just think it's sad that anon can't even post content (even just to be funny and silly) because it would ultimately feed into a very valid fear.
I think the queer community as a whole should reflect on this behavior. We're not immune to being cruel and wrong just because others have been cruel and wrong to us.
Word Count: 1091“I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up.”“ The little hole in my chest can easily be filled by comfort food.”
White knuckles from clenching your fists too hard, and gritted teeth from effort to remain silent, your hunched form exuded an animosity that was like acid - burning, slicing, potent. Burning rage hissed through your body like a deadly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off your like ferocious waves. Your face was red with suppressed rage, and when the front door opened, you swung around and mentally snapped.
It wasn’t Damien’s fault, and you knew that, but he was the first person whom you spotted once your anger had set in. As he walked through the living room, he stopped in his tracks at seeing your upset face. “Hey, you alright?” he asked cautiously, setting his keys down on the side table. You inhaled sharply through your nose as if you were a dragon about to set fire to the whole room.
He looked down at his watch, “Wasn’t what’s-his-face supposed to have picked you up by now?”
If only your quick exhale was actually dragonflame then you wouldn’t have to see the pitying expression setting in on Damien’s features.
“He stood me up,” you seethed, hands picking at the hem of your dress.
Damien let out a noise that had it been from anyone else would have been condescending but deep down, beneath your fog of anger, you knew he was just being sympathetic. You took a few deep, calming breaths and rose from the couch to stand on your feet. You smoothed your hands down the front of your dress and fixed Damien with a look that you hoped appeared less harsh than it felt.
“Let’s go,” you said simply, grabbing your jacket.
Damien looked at you, confused, “Go? Go where?”
“I bought a dress, shaved my legs, and put makeup on. I refuse to be stood up,” you stated matter-of-factly. “So, we are going to go out to eat and I am going to get a drink and I would love it if you were a great roommate and did this for me.” You could feel your resolve, and some of your anger, giveaway at the end of your sentence and you hated it. You loathed feeling weak, and you knew that Damien would never think of you that way but it still bothered you.
He nodded once and picked up his keys, “Yeah, alright, let’s go.”
Rounding the couch and coffee table, Damien presented you with his arm for you to take. You ducked your head slightly to hide your grin but gladly wrapped you hand around his elbow before he lead you out of the house. After he locked the door, Damien lead you out to his car and opened the passenger side door for you to get in, closing it tightly behind you once you were securely inside. You glanced over your shoulder to watch him walk around the car and you felt a slight flutter in your chest and in your stomach.
Mentally you scolded yourself as you fastened your seatbelt. This was Damien. Your roommate. One of your best friends for years. You absolutely could not, under any circumstances, think of him in that way. You heard the driver side door open and looked over to see Damien sliding into the seat. He quickly did his seatbelt and turned to look in your direction, his hair flopping slightly as a lopsided grin fell into place on his lips.
Oh, no.
“Where to?” he asked, starting the engine.
You suddenly felt as though your chest was tight and your face was hot. What was happening? Why were you feeling this way? You ducked your head and cleared your throat in an attempt to gather your composure in a way that wasn’t overtly obvious to Damien. “Um, the usual place?” you suggested after you finally looked back up at him.
Damien grinned again and nodded. “Nice, I like it,” he said happily, reaching out to pat you on the knee before putting the car into reverse.
Oh yeah, you were done for.
At the restaurant you found yourself to be struggling even more than before. How had you never noticed how nice Damien’s smile was? Or how cute his laugh is? Or the way the light caught his eyes just so? You ordered a drink quickly, hoping that the alcohol would help you in one way or another, but if anything it just made you look at Damien more closely. After finishing the drink, you switched to water as if afraid anymore would lead you to saying or doing something about these new thoughts and feelings sprouting up within you.
When the food arrived and you began eating, Damien chuckled softly which caught your attention. You looked up at him with slightly knitted eyebrows which made him smile fondly at you. “You just look happier than you did when I got home, is all,” he explained with a shrug.
“The little hole in my chest can easily be filled by comfort food,” you retorted, taking a bite of your pasta.
Damien laughed and ducked his head down as a wide grin tugged at his lips. A certain sense of pride flared up inside your chest as having put that smile there. But you quickly shook your head and went back to your food in an attempt to push it away.
He had insisted on paying for dinner, no matter how you tried to argue with him. He even caught you before you could slip your card in the folder when you thought he wasn’t looking. Back at the house, Damien helped you out of the car and lead you to the front door. He didn’t stop there. He walked you up the stairs and to your bedroom door, fixing you with a smile that did strange things to your stomach and your knees.
“I hope I was a good enough substitution for what’s-his-name,” he said softly.
You swallowed harshly around a newfound lump in your throat and nodded. “The best,” you forced yourself to say, coming out as just above a whisper. Damien nodded and ducked his head to press a kiss against your cheek before lifting your hand to do the same to the back of it. Both things he’d done in the past but now it made your heart stutter in your chest and your stomach drop.
“Good night, Y/N,” he said, turning to head towards his room.
You let out a shaky sigh and nodded once, “Good night.”
The sound of shouts and general misery is what drew you to the main room of Achievement Hunter. You’d been walking by and heard what sounded to be Michael and Jeremy screaming for some sort of assistance. Now, you knew that they were very obviously playing a game but you couldn’t help but open the door to take a peek inside just to see what it was that had gotten them all riled up.
In the office itself, the lights were mostly off and five monitors were pulled up to blank white pages which cast a bright light over the faces of the men sitting at those stations.
“Get him, Michael! The Tap Man is done for,” Jeremy screamed as he wildly tapped at his keyboard.
Michael was practically bouncing in his chair, “If I get closer he’ll vom on me, Jeremy!”
It seemed as though no one was paying attention to the door opening and closing as you stepped foot into the room. No one, except for Gavin. “Y/N!” he shouted, having spotted you in the capture of his webcam. He whipped around and looked at you with wild, frantic eyes.
“Go stop Ryan from killing us all. He’s already got me and Fiona, but Jeremy and Michael can make it if they get away!”
You stared at him for a moment, trying to process just what it was that he was saying. When it all finally clicked, you strolled across the room to where Ryan was sitting at his desk. You could see Jeremy’s character on the shoulder of Ryan’s as he made his way to a hook. “Ry? Darling,” you said softly as you bent enough to nearly eye level with him.
His eyes cut briefly from the screen to you but returned just as fast.
Reaching out, you grabbed his chin between your thumb and forefinger, and gently pulled his head to the side so that you could plant a kiss to his lips. You felt him relax and vaguely registered the four other people in the game cheering and shouting. You stayed there for a beat or two longer before slowly pulling away from him, smiling warming as you did so.
“Tap Man’s got the door! Go, go, go!”
Jeremy’s shouts seemed to finally connect to Ryan’s brain and his eyes widened comically before he snapped his head back to his screen. “Fuck! You… You…”
“YOU!” both Michael and Jeremy laughed as they escaped the level.
Ryan whipped around to look at you with a vaguely upset glint in his eyes, “You distracted me!”
I'd argue yes?
Just being really rude about someone else's neurodevelopmental disorder or neurodivergency is ableist, and very likely is fed by and feeds into internalized ableism.
This is: Transphobia and very easy to miss classism
The assumption that every rural place defaults to bigotry is bigoted, as the core of this assumption is that those in rural areas are too stupid to be nice and build community without hating specific minorities out of sheer ignorance. And while it's true that rural areas are more likely to have less funding for their education, that doesn't mean that they're inherently mean and stupid. It equates being stupid with being mean, and that's...obviously not at all rooted in reality. Yes, some people who are bigoted ARE uneducated, but they are WILLINGLY uneducated and don't want to learn. More often than not, these people are also from suburban and urban areas, at least from my personal observation.
I can't say I know what it's like to live in a rural area. I've either lived in suburban areas or urban areas, because my family comes from a place of mild privilege.
Transphobia because of the teacher thinking the subversion of a classic transphobic trope is 'weird' and shouldn't be brought up. I would get it if the anon had made the person win, and thus CAUSED the rural area to be bigoted, but that didn't happen, and it's not going to. And I agree that it shows how the area's culture is more open and accepting by showing one character who goes against that and isn't rewarded for it. The point that I get from this general summary is that the character the story is about loses badly because he got too cocky and confident, and likely is misogynistic in some way.
I'd love to see this story, anon! It would be pretty cool to read, in all honesty :)
